


leave the horror here

by provocation



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Fix-It, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-10-09 14:39:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10414425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/provocation/pseuds/provocation
Summary: Chris is the only one that comes up to Blackwood Mountain for the anniversary trip.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sludgeraptor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sludgeraptor/gifts).



> This is a birthday present for [Chris](http://stuloomis.tumblr.com)! It's an AU we discussed a while ago, and I thought I'd write something for it. I'm sorry this got so Josh-centric, but... it's me, what did you expect? I haven't written Climbing Class in a long time, but this was fun to play around with. I hope you enjoy it, and happy birthday! <3
> 
> tws: very brief mention of suicide, brief dissociation, descriptions of panic attacks, references to various mental illnesses, references to various medications, references to canonical death, mentions of alcohol but no consumption. also I know the trips don't technically occur on the weekend but shhhh
> 
> Title from [Spanish Sahara](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=prGptG5Ex1g), which I was introduced to through Life Is Strange! It's excellent mood music for this fic.

Josh waits all day alone in the hotel. He didn’t sleep a wink last night, but he doesn’t think he’d be able to take a nap even if he tried— he’s way too excited. Everything is perfectly set up; now he just needs to wait for the rest of the cast and find something to occupy his time.

There’s no reception up here, so he has hooked up the Wi-Fi while he waits. He’ll have to turn it off before everyone gets there, because he wouldn’t want anyone to panic and get in touch with the authorities. Just the idea makes Josh frown. He hopes that his friends don’t reach out for help; that would totally ruin his movie.

God, he can already see it all laid out; Jess and Mike screaming as they realize they’re isolated from everyone else. Sam running through the obstacle course he set up, getting to relive the horror that Hannah felt as she ran out of the lodge. Matt and Emily trying to rescue Jess and Mike and discovering their own sinister subplot. Chris and Ashley falling into each other’s arms and confessing their love.

That last one thrills Josh a little less, but. That’s what Chris would want for the film, so he included it.

The surveillance system and all the traps traps are already set up, and Josh gives a little smile to the nearest hidden camera as he walks through the hotel.

“Showtime, baby,” he says, and grins. He hopes it looks maniacal.

-

Twenty minutes later, the first victim arrives.

“Man, I feel like this mountain gets bigger every time I climb it,” Chris huffs. Josh is secretly relieved that Chris was the first to show up; he’s written Chris the best part, and he’s also just happy to see his best friend. Chris’ face is red from the cold and the ‘climb’, even though he took the cable car up. His cheeks are flushed, and Josh thinks he’s going to look great on camera.

“Oh yeah?” Josh has travelled up this mountain more than anyone else in the past few weeks, including the police. Planning his magnum opus has taken time and effort. “Feels the same to me.”

“C’mon, you grew up here,” Chris says, and nudges his shoulder gently. “It probably feels like it’s shrinking.”

Josh is about to mindlessly agree when he hesitates, glancing behind Chris. He thought he saw someone else— but no, so far Chris is the only visitor. Chris follows his gaze, glancing over his shoulder and then looking at Josh uncertainly. Josh mumbles, “Did you see anyone else at the cable car station, bro?”

“Uh, no,” Chris says. They’re standing really close, and Josh can see the fog on Chris’ glasses. He can practically count his freckles. “I left a note on the gate to let people know that it’s busted, but… I think we’re the first ones here, bro.”

“Huh,” Josh says, bemused.

-

One hour later, Josh is forced to face the realization that nobody else is coming.

“You want a beer?” Chris calls over from the kitchen. Josh spaced out staring at the front door, and he has to shake himself to refocus his attention. This is something he hadn’t accommodated for in _any_ of his plans. He knew that his friends were to blame for Hannah and Beth’s disappearance, but he had never dreamed that they just… wouldn’t show up.

“Not really,” he replies, slouching as he walks into the kitchen. He has no idea where to go from here. “I haven’t drank in a year.”

One year exactly.

“Me neither,” Chris says, almost too quickly. Like he’s relieved to get it off his chest. “I just figured it might… help you calm down or something. I don’t know.”

Josh opens his mouth, and before he can say anything, Chris quickly adds, “We don’t need to drink to have fun though! We could watch a movie or play a game or something. Or— I saw one of your dad’s gun back down at the base of the mountain. We could shoot some stuff?”

This is _not_ Oscar-winning material. This is _not_ quality content. Josh stares at Chris, and then looks over at the door. The cameras are still rolling, so he might as well try to make this count.

“I… have a Ouija board? In the basement, um…” He braces himself, trying to return to his script, but it doesn’t flow naturally. “Did you want to mess around with that?”

A nervous grin slides onto Chris’ face, but there’s no _real_ fear there. “Those things are a load of crap, but sure, dude. Whatever you want.”

It’s not what Josh wants; not like this. He knows that Ashley has a naïve belief in the supernatural, and that Chris is too logical for that crap, which is why he’s agreeing so readily. Chris doesn’t believe in ghosts, but— Josh quickly rearranges his prank in his head. Mike and Jessica’s parts are dependent on them hooking up, so those scenes can be cut. Matt and Emily never had any chemistry anyway, so that’s easy enough to forget. Maybe he can slide Chris into Sam’s role, and try to work in Ashley through conversation. He— he’ll make this work.

A voice in the back of his head that sounds like Han tells him that this is a crazy idea. That it won’t make sense if the others aren’t there. That Chris won’t laugh at the punchline.

But Chris always laughs at his punchlines.

Josh grinds his teeth the whole walk to the basement, and if Chris notices, he doesn’t say anything. When they get down there, Chris starts wandering around, looking at different items with interest. He picks up the baseball bat and swings it, and watches an imaginary baseball fly out of an imaginary field. “Home run! Whoooo!”

Hiding a grin, Josh pretends to occupy himself with the hot water pipes. Planning Sam’s part of the prank had required that he find a way to isolate her, and a bath was the perfect choice. He remembers the bath she’d taken last time she was up here; filling the tub took nearly an hour and she’d wasted another two doing God-knows-what. This time, he has surveillance set up in the master bathroom, but no Sam to use the bath.

He pulls out his phone, and sees that he’s forgotten to disable the Internet. Whatever; he’s got ample time to do that before Chris really gets caught up in the prank. He opens his messages to send an angry text to Sam, but the second he does, his phone vibrates with a message that she had apparently sent him two days ago. The connection up here really is garbage.

_From: Samantha Giddings  
January 31 st, 18:32_

_Hey Josh, I’ve been watching your video message on repeat :( I know I said I would come up to Blackwood for the anniversary of your sisters’ disappearance, but I don’t think I can make it. I’m so sorry. Every time I think about that mountain, I think about Han, and how I helped out with the prank even if I was just an unwilling bystander. I should have told you about the prank and I feel terrible about that every day. So this is me telling you in advance that I won’t be able to make it :( I hope that’s okay, and that the rest of you have a great time anyway. Have fun partying like horn stars!_

_From: Samantha Giddings  
January 31 st, 18:34_

_**Porn stars! I have never typed that word before! Autocorrect!!! D:_

Josh feels something in his heart go loose. He expects to feel bitter about Sam mentioning her guilt, seeing as he’s been plagued by selfish thoughts for the last twelve months along the lines of “Oh, you feel bad? Think about how _I_ feel, assholes”. But when he reaches for that bitterness, it just— isn’t there. Sam clearly already feels guilty to the point where she doesn’t even want to come up to the mountain, so Josh wonders what he’d be trying to accomplish by filming her getting drugged, and chased around, and scared shitless.

She might be the perfect Final Girl, but she’s also his friend, and that realization hits Josh like a brick to the chest. His hands are shaking as he types out a response to the text.

_From: Joshua Washington  
February 2 nd, 23:02_

_sorry i just saw this. you’ll be missed  
don’t know if anyone else is coming_

The reply comes instantly.

_From: Samantha Giddings  
February 2 nd, 23:03_

_Oh no! I’m sorry Josh :((((((( At least Chris is going, he told me he was on the way and how excited he was to spend the weekend with you! Have fun, lovebirds ;)_

_From: Joshua Washington  
February 2 nd, 23:03_

_what_

Josh raises his head to turn and say something to Chris, but when he does, he sees a figure in a long cloak at the end of the room.

Their arms are outstretched like a zombie’s, and they’re moving towards Josh. It’s hard to make out their features other than the brown cloak and hood in the pale blue moonlight, but Josh doesn’t stop to try and identify them. He runs, panicking. He makes it halfway up the stairs before he realizes he should have grabbed the baseball bat, but there’s lots of weapons on the first floor anyway. He’s sure his dad stashed a gun somewhere; or maybe a fire poker.

Josh sprints up the stairs and tries the doorknob; to his acute terror, it’s _locked_. He jiggles the knob a bit, eyes wide with fear. “No, no no no,” he moans. The locked door was supposed to keep _out_ intruders, not lock him in with them! He hears a similar groan from behind him, and whips around to look at the figure.

Whoever it is, their cloak makes them look like a monk, and they keep moaning like an angry spectre. Is this penance for setting up a fake Ouija board? Josh is too scared to say anything, pressing back nervously against the door, and the monk slowly ascends the stairs. His heart is racing, and then the monk starts laughing; low and ominous.

“Boom,” the monk says, ripping off his hood to reveal his identity: it’s Chris, shit-eating grin stretched from cheek to cheek. “You just got monked!”

Josh can’t even find it in himself to be mad. “Nice,” he breathes, when he’s found his breath. “Nice one. That was good.”

Chris is laughing his head off, clearly delighted with his own goof. “Yeah! Awesome, right? I found all this cool old movie crap lying around down here, so I figured I might as well give you a scare.”

“Definitely awesome.” Josh grins.

Chris looks proud of himself, walking up the stairs until he’s just one stair below him. They nearly measure up height-wise; Chris had a massive growth spurt in the summer of grade eleven and now he’s taller than Josh when they’re level. He holds up his hand, and Josh high-fives it without a thought. “Jokemaster and prank king, back at it again!”

Chris’ hand lingers against his for a moment, and Josh’s heart is so loud he thinks Chris can probably hear it. Chris’ palm is warm and sweaty against his, and Josh feels more alive than he’s felt in the last twelve months.

That prank had terrified him, but Chris explained why he had done it, and now Josh feels even better than before. It had made him laugh and everything. It makes him feel like fucking garbage for the prank he’s about to pull on Chris.

“I have to tell you something,” he blurts out.

-

_From: Samantha Giddings  
February 2 nd, 23:04_

_I hope I’m your maid of honour! <3_

-

They’re standing in front of the lever. The saw is there, in all its glory; the board is there, standing upright. One side is vacant, and the body of a pig is stuffed into his clothes on the other side. There’s a hole where his head would be. Chris is holding a bottle of chloroform that Josh had showed him, and Josh is holding his mask in his hands. He is on the verge of breaking it apart with anxiety.

“I don’t—” Chris starts, and then looks down at the bottle of chloroform. He examines the label. “Is this _real_?”

“Yep,” Josh says, teeth gritted tightly.

Chris looks up at him, and the look on his face is apologetic. “I don’t think I get it. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t _get it_?” Josh stares at him, mouth agape for a moment, and then he marches over to the gate. He unlocks it, brandishing the key in Chris’ direction— Chris still just looks confused and embarrassed. He walks through the door, and sticks his head through the hole in the wood. “Picture Ashley to my left. Does this really not remind you of anything?”

Chris stares blankly at him, and then walks through the door himself, which is so far off-script that Josh cringes at just the sight. There’s no point trying to change anything now, he supposes. This footage will never be made into anything watchable. Chris’ eyes drift over the saw, and he reaches out to touch one of its points, fingertip running over the metal. “Is _this_ real?”

“ _Is it re_ —” Josh is about to throw a shitfit. He pulls his head out of the hole, and his fake body jiggles in place. “No! It’s not real! It’s a prank! I was going to prank you and Ashley, and Sam, and all the others! I was going to humiliate you and all our other friends, and terrorize you— the way you all terrorized _my sisters_!”

Chris is still staring at him, and there’s something more to his expression now, but his face is entirely unreadable. He looks like he’s struggling not to say something, and Josh desperately wants him to say it. Part of him hopes Chris will punch him in the face. Part of him hopes Chris will storm out, and leave him alone here. Part of him recognizes part of the emotion on Chris’ face as sympathy, and it makes him feel even more uncomfortable.

“I set up all this shit,” he continues to ramble helplessly, “and, God, _Chris_ , it was expensive! I’ve seen more pig blood than most indie horror sets, and I set up candles, and notes, and _masks_!” Chris still hasn’t said anything. “And saws and knives and guns and _noises_ , Jesus, _Christopher_ , just wait until you hear the fucking noises!”

He stomps around the back of the board, and punches a button so hard that the pig body nearly falls off.

“Hello,” the metallic voice of the Psycho echoes over the speaker system, “and thank you all for joining me.”

It feels so anticlimactic to listen to this without listening to Ashley’s screams. Chris hasn’t taken his eyes off of Josh or blinked or anything, and Josh feels so anxious he wants to die. His breath is only coming in short little bursts, and his hands keep twitching over the mask he’s holding. The _Psycho_ mask. Doesn’t Chris understand how good this all is? Even Dr. Hill would have had to admit how good it was when he saw the footage.

“Tonight, we’re going to conduct a little experiment. A sort of test.” Josh recorded these lines in late January, and he was proud of himself when he got a take he liked. From the look on Chris’ face, he doesn’t like it at all. ”Now for this experiment, we'll need the cooperation of our two test subjects: Joshua and Ashley. But we're going to need more than one brave participant to help decide which subject will live, and which will die.”

Chris doesn’t say anything, which is worse than if he’d gotten mad. Josh wants to sink through the floor and die in the mines.

“Please, please, please, everyone calm down! It's all very simple. Christopher, you will find a lever placed directly in front of you. All you have to do... is choose who you will save.”

The recording comes to an end with a small _click_ , and Josh winces at the noise. Chris looks over at the lever, and then looks back at him, and Josh can’t handle this. “No matter who you picked, the saw would have gone towards me, so you don’t need to worry; Ashley was never in danger. And then you two would go stumble back to the lodge to hold each other, and I set up _another_ prank with you two and a gun, to see if you would have shot her if you thought your own life was at stake. It was going to be so romantic, Chris, you were going to be my star, the male lead—”

“Josh,” Chris says softly, cutting straight through Josh’s long-winded explanation. He sounds heartbroken, which Josh should have expected. Maybe he should have waited to tell Chris about the prank, and involve him in it next time. That way he could set Chris up with Ashley the way he deserves.

“It would have been so good, but nobody fucking bothered to show up—”

“You’re off your meds,” Chris says, quiet and sad.

And that cuts right through Josh, devastating him worse than anything else would. He tries to stammer out something like _No_ but it doesn’t come out right, his tongue and teeth working against him. “I—”

“This isn’t romantic.” Chris shakes his head. “It’s not a good prank. It’s— it’s scary, and it’s scary because you’re sad, and you haven’t moved on from what happened.”

Red flashes across his vision. “How can you expect me to move on when—”

“I don’t! I don’t.” Chris takes a step towards him, and Josh stays rooted to his spot. “Not right away, but you need to find healthier ways of dealing with this, bro. I thought you wanted us to come back to the mountain to honour Hannah and Beth’s memories.”

“I want _vengeance_ ,” Josh starts, but Chris interrupts him again.

“But how is that going to help? How is making the people that cared about Hannah and Beth scared going to help Hannah, or Beth, or _you_? I don’t…” He walks up to Josh, and Josh is worried Chris is going to retaliate against him for all his plans, but Chris just pulls him into a firm embrace. It’s a little sad how long he’s gone without a hug; it’s a little pathetic how easily he sinks into it. “You know I love your pranks, but this isn’t one of your better ideas, bro.”

Josh closes his eyes tightly. His head is swimming, and it’s making his eyes wet. “Don’t tell the others,” he mumbles, voice muffled by the fabric of Chris’ layers. Excluding his binder, there’s at least five sweaters and jackets and shirts.

“Of course not,” Chris says, rubbing his back.

Five or ten or ninety minutes pass before Josh can say anything else. He feels like he’s been knocked out of his own skull, and it takes him a while to crawl back. When he makes it there, his grip on Chris’ back tightens, and he asks, “Why’d you come, when everybody else stayed behind?”

“I wanted to party like a porn star with you, bro!” Josh lifts his head to look at Chris doubtfully, and Chris grins at him. His eyes are wet too, and he looks overcome with relief. “Duh.”

“Oh,” Josh says softly, and then hesitates. “ _Oh_.”

And here he’d thought that _Ashley_ was the person Chris would die and kill for.

-

They head back to the lodge, holding hands in the darkness— but maybe it’s their lucky night, because nothing supernatural jumps out at them. (Or maybe it’s the two flashlights they’re carrying.) At one point they trigger one of Josh’s jumpscares; one he’d set up for Matt, actually. They both shriek, and then hold each other, laughing in fright.

“So what else did your prank involve?” Chris asks, making easy small talk out of the revenge scheme that has consumed the last six months of Josh’s life and psyche. “Because I could probably roll with pranking some of the people that didn’t show up tonight.”

Josh swears his heart skips a beat. “Yeah?”

“I mean, yeah,” Chris laughs. “Not that I’m not happy to have the place to ourselves, but I can’t believe nobody else showed up! What assholes.”

Josh squeezes Chris’ hand, and then hesitates. He doesn’t want to talk about the drugging, or the chasing, or the video of Hannah. In hindsight, those all seem too cruel to justify. He finally starts, “Well… there was this dollhouse I set up. That was pretty scary.”

“Oh, like Chucky-style dolls or demon Barbies? Or some Annabelle shit?” Chris squeezes his hand back.

“Demon Barbies, I guess. And I set up this ghost woman to really freak out you and Ashley.”

“To really freak out Ashley, you mean,” Chris corrects him. “Because I’m a fearless badass who would definitely not be freaked out.”

Josh looks over at him, raising an eyebrow. “Are you saying… that you ain’t afraid of no ghost?”

Chris laughs all the way back to the lodge.

-

Josh leaves the mask behind in the shed, but he folds up the overalls. Thankfully, he hasn’t sprayed them with fake blood yet— for once, his procrastination is a good thing. He packs them and the rest of his clothes into his suitcase, and he gets distracted by pictures of Hannah. This lodge will require a lot more cleaning before it’s habitable again, but Josh thinks he can maybe manage that now.

“Going somewhere?” Chris interrupts, leaning against the doorframe to his room. He hasn’t been here since last year, but it looks pretty much the same; the Fellowship of the Ring and X-Men posters haven’t moved an inch.

Josh shrugs, zipping up his luggage. The zipper sticks on an old shirt, and he has to tug it hard. “There’s no point in us staying here.”

“But we haven’t even checked out the cabin you set up for Mike and Jess.” Chris wiggles his eyebrows. “And besides, I, for one, was looking forward to a nice weekend getaway with my best friend at his _luxurious_ mountainside cottage.”

Josh lets go of the zipper, looking up at Chris uncertainly. “You want to stay?”

“Well, I’m sure as fuck not leaving you alone here,” Chris says, smiling gently. “So if you wanna head back home and play video games in your room instead, then that works for me. But I kind of like the seclusion. Maybe we can do all the shit we were supposed to do last year. I— uh, I mean, if that works for you!”

Josh gets to his feet before he can think about it. He crosses the room, and kisses Chris.

To Chris’ credit, he only flounders for a second before kissing back. Josh closes his eyes, but he can feel Chris lift his arm, and he’s pretty sure he can feel Chris triumphantly punch the air.

Josh would make fun of him if he wasn’t just as much of a dork.

-

They spend the rest of that weekend kissing each other intermittently, and replacing all the bad memories with new perfect ones.

Chris helps him tear down the parts of his prank that are easy to disassemble, and Josh even takes Chris to his secret corners of the lodge; the home theatre with video feeds of everything, the lair with a shrine to Hannah and his old cellphone and his psychiatric report. Chris knows about all five of his psychologists, so Josh doesn’t bother hiding shit from him.

In fact, he ends up telling Chris more than he’d ever expected to tell anyone. His big reveal for the prank had been pretty simple; he hadn’t really delved into the depths of his anger or his grief. He tells Chris about Sam and Hannah, which doesn’t really feel like his secret to share, but Hannah’s dead now anyway so there’s no one else to confide in. He tells him about the hallucinations, and Chris, in turn, tells Josh about his ADHD, and his autism, and all the medication he takes. When Chris talks about his meds, it almost sounds manageable. It almost sounds like something Josh wants to try.

Josh texts his psychiatrist, and Dr. Hill replies nearly instantly, saying that they can meet when Josh is back home. For once, the thought of meeting someone to talk about his mental health doesn’t make him want to kill himself— not when he tells Chris and sees the proud expression on his face.

While he’s on his phone, he figures he might as well take the opportunity to chew everyone else out, so he snaps a quick selfie with Chris. He’s holding his X-Box controller, and a bowl of chips is visible in the background. He sends it to the group chat, and he hears Chris’ phone go off.

_From: Joshua Washington  
February 3 rd, 15:47_

_this is what ur all missing!!!  
(1 Image Attachment)_

Replies flood in right away.

_Samantha Giddings: CUTIES_  
Christopher Hartley: Gay  
Emily Davis: Adorable.  
Jessica Riley: Ideal 3way  
Emily Davis: -_-  
Matthew Taylor: what r u playin  
Ashley Brown: ^  
Samantha Giddings: Hahaha! Jess XD  
Ashley Brown: sam i told u to stop using that emoticon  
Samantha Giddings: But I’m laughing! XD  
Jessica Riley: ;)  
Michael Munroe: Are u two the only ones there?  
Michael Munroe: Sorry I couldn’t come join you guys this weekend. Too many bed memories  
Michael Munroe: BAD. BAD MEMORIES!

Josh doesn’t realize how tense he is before Chris places a hand on his shoulder. He’s started typing a message, but it’s not really organized; his thoughts are a tangled mess. He deletes his reply when he sees Chris starting to type something.

_Christopher Hartley: @ Ash + Matt: Borderlands_  
Matthew Taylor: nice gg  
Christopher Hartley: And yes we’re the only ones here. It’s your loss, bro  
Michael Munroe: :( Sorry Josh  
Michael Munroe: How’s the weekend going?

“Well?” Josh looks over at Chris. “How _is_ the weekend going?”

Chris doesn’t answer, but his eyes are unusually bright. They both lean in for a kiss at once, and their noses bump against each other. When they kiss for real, Josh is laughing, and Chris reaches up to adjust something. Josh assumes it’s his glasses up until he hears the recorded snap of Chris’ camera taking a selfie.

_From: Christopher Hartley  
February 3 rd, 15:58_

_[no text]  
(1 image attachment)_

_Jessica Riley, Samantha Giddings, Michael Munroe, Ashley Brown, and Emily Davis are typing…  
Matthew Taylor: CALLED IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! EVERYONE OWES ME 20 BUCKS_

-

Josh gets three separate messages from Mike, Emily, and Jess later, all telling him how sorry they are for not being able to attend and for what happened last year. Josh doesn’t reply to any of them beyond a simple “thanks” but it feels good, like he’s slowly being knit back into himself piece by piece.

He writes down Mike’s apology on a piece of paper and leaves it beside the shrine he made for Hannah.

-

Chris makes him dinner the next night, and Josh sits on the counter to watch him cook the whole time. They pretend they’re on a Food Network show, with Josh alternating between judge and commentator. They end up eating right there in the kitchen, sitting on opposite sides of the island just like they did the last time they were here.

This time, neither of them pass out drunk; neither of them drink at all. Josh makes Chris try to re-enact the dinner scene from Lady and the Tramp with him, but they’re not eating spaghetti and it turns out trying to nudge food across your plate with your nose is next to impossible. They drink pop from wine glasses, pretending to be classy aristocrats instead of massive dorks.

“How is your white?” Chris teases as he pours Sprite into Josh’s glass. It looks nothing like white wine, but they both have good imaginations.

“You’re great,” Josh teases, and Chris laughs so hard he spills Sprite all over the counter.

Chris goes to search for a roll of paper towel, leaving Josh alone at the island. He’s midway through a bite of his food when suddenly the front door bursts open, and a stranger bursts into the room.

Josh is startled by his appearance; both the fact that he randomly appeared through their unlocked door at the top of their mountain, and his _appearance_. He’s wearing a toque and thick jacket, which seem mundane enough, but there is an inane pair of goggles hanging around his neck and a giant apparatus on his back. It looks like some type of flamethrower, which is equal parts terrifying and awesome. There’s a scar through one of his eyes, which is milky white and blue. He barks at Josh, “What are you doing here?! It’s not safe for you to be here!”

Josh raises an eyebrow, trying not to fling his steak knife at the man. “What am I doing here? What are _you_ doing here? This is my mountain, asshole. How did you even get up here?”

“I live up here, and this ain’t your mountain,” the man growls, and his accent is impossible to place. It sounds like someone trying to sound menacing by talking vaguely Southern, but it’s a pretty unconvincing character trait. “This mountain belongs… to the Wendigos.”

Josh gets to his feet, uncertainly picking up his steak knife and holding it out like a lightsaber. He’s never had to defend himself from any home invaders before, so he’s not sure how to look menacing. “It’s pronounced Washingtons.”

They stare each other down for a long moment, as Josh tries to remember every knife fight he’s ever seen in every movie he’s ever watched. The silence is finally cut short by Chris walking down the stairs. “I couldn’t find any paper towels, so hopefully a real towel will work. I mean, we could always just use toilet paper, but— AAAAH!” Chris uses his vantage point to fling his towel at the man. It lands on him, covering his face for just a moment; and then slides to the ground.

The stranger looks unimpressed.

Chris runs down the stairs to Josh’s side, looking between him and the stranger quickly. “Who are you? Josh, who is this guy? What’s happening? How’d he get in here?”

“He broke in,” Josh tells Chris, trying to sound threatening. It comes off as mildly amused.

“I didn’t think anyone would be up here, and then I saw your generator was on, and I had to come check that no fools had holed up in here.” The stranger’s jaw sets. “But lo and behold: two teenage fools, vulnerable to attack.”

“Excuse me?” Chris narrows his eyes. “Who exactly is going to attack us up here?”

Josh adds, “Except weird old men that break into our private property with flamethrowers.”

“Oh, shit, is that a flamethrower?” Chris is instantly distracted, rocking up to his tiptoes to get a better look. “That’s awesome. And terrifying. Why do you have a flamethrower, weird old man?”

The stranger shakes his head, clearly done. “Fire is the only way to fight the wendigo. Fire and stillness.”

“Fire and— what the hell is he talking about?” Chris looks at Josh. “What’s a wendigo?”

“Like in Pet Sematary?”

“What’s Pet Cemetery?”

“ _Bro_. Have you not seen that? It’s a _classic_.”

“Let’s watch it!”

The stranger growls, “Not like in Pet Sematary. A _real_ wendigo.” He hesitates, looking between them. “Do you mean to tell me… you two came up here last year, and you came _back_ this year, and you stayed here last night, and you haven’t encountered any monsters?”

A chill runs down Josh’s back, but he shakes it off. “No.”

The stranger looks between them, disbelief written all over his face. “Did you… sit perfectly still all night?”

“What?” Chris frowns. “No, um… we went outside for a bit, but we didn’t stay out too late?”

“You went outside,” the stranger repeats. What little colour there is left in his face drains from it. “You didn’t see anything?”

“There was this clown that popped up in front of us, but that was a part of Josh’s prank.”

“My bad,” Josh shrugs. He’s still hurting over the prank, but it’s not like he’s going to get into things with this flamethrower guy.

“A clown?” The stranger’s eyes bug out of his head. “Have you not heard the screeching in the woods?”

They had, but they’ve been way too busy with crucially important tasks like Halo 4 and making out. “We kind of figured it was wolves or deer or something.”

“Screaming… deer?”

Chris grins. “Have you never seen Animal Planet? Those things get weird!”

The stranger’s jaw is hanging open now, and he stares at them for a minute before wrenching it closed. “I need to get you two kids to a safe room. _Now_.”

“We’ve got a safe room in the basement,” Josh suggests, shrugging. “It hasn’t been used in years, but… wait just a minute. Hang on a second, guy. How the _fuck_ did you know we were here last year?”

The flamethrower guy goes silent, looking morose with guilt. “I… I got stuff I gotta get off my chest too. But that won’t matter if the wendigo finds us here, because it will kill us. I can tell you my story, but we need to get to a safe room first.”

“I don’t know,” Chris mumbles. “I was feeling pretty safe up until he showed up, but now…”

“Close the door, and lock it,” Josh tells the stranger. He feels overcome with determination. “And follow me. And tell us _everything_.”

-

It turns out _everything_ takes up the better part of an hour, and by the time they’ve reached the final confrontation with Makkapitew, Josh is trying to stifle his yawns. Chris has slumped against his shoulder; they’re sitting by the table in the safe room. The stranger has been pacing back and forth the entire time, only looking over at them occasionally.

“And that was the night,” the stranger seethes, fist clenched around the bars to the safe room. “That was the night I let my anger get the better of me, and I killed a wendigo— something I’ll never do again. I should have left Makkapitew alive; maybe then, three people wouldn’t have died that night.”

“Hang on,” Chris says, going tense against Josh’s side. “Three?”

“Aye,” the man grunts. “Makkapitew and these two young kids. Twins, I think.”

Josh’s blood runs cold, and he’s instantly wide awake; like someone pulled out the chair from under him. “Twins?” he demands, voice serious.

“Twin girls.” Josh’s throat closes up. “They were running through the forest, one after the other, distraught about something. I thought they might have seen the wendigo, so I approached them, but I was just barely too late. They fell off a cliff; it was tragic, and I had nightmares about it most every day. Those girls didn’t deserve it; no one does, of course, but they were so young.”

Josh can’t find his breath. “They f-fell off a cliff.”

“Backwards, clean off the edge. I tried to help one of them up, but she let go. I think she wanted to be with her sister.”

Josh closes his eyes so tightly his face hurts, and he blocks out the sound around him. He’s not sure if he’s dissociating or if he’s wilfully removing himself from the situation, but either way, the only noise he can hear is his own stuttering heartbeat. They died. They fell off a cliff. Clean off the edge. It was tragic.

She wanted to be with her sister.

He’s vaguely aware of Chris saying something harsh and loud to the man, and the stranger replying, but the sounds are all jumbled together. Josh has no idea what they’re saying; the only thing he knows is that his sisters died _that night_. The night they ran away. The police have spent the last year searching this mountain for two missing girls, until finally the search ended because they were presumed dead. There’s no need to presume anymore.

When Josh tunes back in, it’s to Chris’ hands on his shoulders and Chris’ lips pressing gentle kisses to his scalp.

“Hi there,” Chris murmurs. “You okay?”

“No,” Josh says, wrenching his eyes open. Even the dark green lighting here feels way too bright; the world is blurred through tears. The stranger is nowhere to be seen. Josh wonders how long ago he left. “Yes. Maybe. Not really.”

Chris holds him, and Josh cries. He’s been mourning his sisters for a year exactly, but this is the first time he’s felt like they’re really, truly _gone_.

-

It turns out, Chris tells him when he no longer feels catatonic, that the stranger is actually not that scary of a guy. He seems to project a threatening aura just because of his hard life and lack of social interactions, but Chris had a whole conversation with him about the wendigo. Josh doesn’t want to hear anything else about it, but he listens to Chris’ explanation. Chris sounds weirdly excited as he describes the best way to avoid notice and how they have to stay inside at night so long as they’re on the mountain.

“Let’s leave the mountain,” Josh says, interrupting Chris’ rant about heat vision and movement sensors. “Tomorrow.”

Chris blinks slowly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Josh says, and closes his eyes. He falls asleep like that, in the uncomfortable chair that his father had put down here in the safe room in case of an emergency.

When he wakes up, he’s in his own bed, and Chris is sleeping next to him. It’s six in the morning, and Chris’ chest is rising and falling slowly. Josh leans over and kisses his cheek, and then passes out immediately.

-

They pack up and take the cable car down at noon.

Josh texts his mom about a potential funeral service, and she responds right away, asking if there’s been any developments. He says he’ll tell her in person, mostly because he doesn’t want to talk about it right now but also because he has to decide how he’s going to spin it. Chris may have a newfound faith in the existence of wendigos, but Melinda Washington will probably not be such a quick convert.

He pockets his phone after that, leaning into Chris’ side. They’re both silent for a moment, and then Josh opens his mouth, “I—”

“Do you remember chaos theory?” Chris blurts out, neatly interrupting him. “Oops, sorry bro! You go first.”

“No, no,” Josh rests his head on Chris’ shoulder. “I do. Butterfly flaps its wings in New Mexico, tornado in China, right?”

“Right,” Chris smiles. “I was thinking about that earlier today. Like, you remember how we met, right?”

“Poor Jeanie Simmons,” Josh says, and they both laugh.

“Anyway, uh, it was that totally random happenstance that got us to meet each other. Like, what if the teacher had moved that guy somewhere else? Or what if I’d been sitting somewhere else, not at the front of the class?”

“I don’t think that’s possible in any multiverse,” Josh smirks. “You’re too much of a nerd.”

Chris rolls his eyes, but he’s still smiling. “And, um, I was thinking about that earlier, like— what if I hadn’t come up here this year? What if I couldn’t make it? Or if someone else came instead of me? What would have happened if it were Jess?”

“There would have been less kissing,” Josh deadpans.

“Right, but it’s still interesting to think about. I don’t know. I think about that a lot. You’ve had a really big impact on my life, bro, and I just… it’s all chance, you know? It’s completely up to chance who you meet. Chance or fate. If it weren't for the fact that Jeanie Simmonds hit puberty like, three years early, and if she hadn’t decided to wear her training bra that day... I mean, who knows? You could be riding in this cable car alone right now, or talking to some other person entirely. Boom. Butterfly effect.”

Josh stares at Chris, and for a long moment the only sound is the cable car riding the line down. They’re nearly at the station, which means they’re nearly off the mountain. And they don’t ever have to come back here.

Chris coughs awkwardly after a minute of silence. “Wh-What were you gonna say before I interrupted you?”

“I love you,” Josh tells him.

They don’t get out of the cable car for another fifteen minutes after that.


End file.
